Knock Knock - Simple Poem

Knock Knock

Nadia Murtaza

It's repetitive.

Every time you assume you are safe, you aren't.

The door closes as fast as it is opened, and you are stuck on the outside.

Usually, you wouldn't have rung the door bell, you should have walked away.

Instead you spent sometime on the thresh hold, and it was sweet. 

You rocked back and forth between the smell of a warm living room and the cool of the outside grass.

It was fun.

One day, you peered inside, and the warm fire place was gone, the inside - empty.

Beneath your feet the paving of the threshhold was cracking and you had no choice but to step back.

The door slams in your face with out warning.

The cold grass is wet against your ankles and you look around.

You were never safe.

Same story again.

Stuck, on the outside.